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One of my favourite books is Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. Some of you will roll your eyes, some will say, "Oh, yes!" - it's one of those books - a tendentious classic to some, a heartstopping romance to others, a pile of sentimental guff to others.
I haven't read it in years, but I can still recite favourite passages. "Jane! Jane! You don't love me, then? It was only the position, the status of my wife that you desired?" (Yes, I know, hideously misquoted. I am shameless in my Rochester-love.)
Well, last night I saw a somewhat cut version of the Polly Teale play as put on by some Kenilworth student actors. Very interesting - I'd love to see a full production. It's about the whole Bronte family, but centered (like my interest) on Charlotte.